starting a new page
It's been a while since I've actually written anything, or maybe it just feels like it because this last month was longer than any month i've ever lived. I've broken the time space continuum and maybe my life won't ever really be the same again, I'm not sure, and I'm not sure if it's for better or worse, but change came and swept all the dirt from magazines and t.v. and insignificant crushes and stupid arguments straight off of me and what's left is a little more raw...hopefully. On the 22nd, I got a phone call from my friend dave telling me that my good friend Dave K had passed away. Dave K... If you didn't know him, it's impossible to describe him with much justice, but my sister used to say he was like an uncle to us- we used to go to idle kids after school when it opened in eighth grade, and it amazed us to find these super nice punks selling zines, which i could never find anywhere in our own neighborhood, it was like finding a circus in your backyard. Dave took us under his wing when we were 15 and we joined idle kids- by then it was turning into something else, but we looked up to him so much, even when I did dumb shit, he wouldn't ever be condescending with me. he wouldn't talk to me like I was stupid, that meant a lot to me. He actually trusted us with some responsibility, and sometimes we'd fail miserably and i felt like i'd done something really wrong, but it wasn't then that I should have felt so bad, when I really let him down was when I watched Idle Kids turn into a dump with nothing to offer but a space for egomaniacal assholes to stand on a soap box and waste everyone's time. I was there til the very end and I really shouldn't have been, because it was nothing but a bunch of people tearing each other down, and it hurt me to see Dave be the target of a lot of completely unjustified anemosity. But still, dave was always nothing but sweet to everyone. One of my last conversations with dave I tried my best to apologize for everything all those assholes did to him and we danced, you know how he used to always take off his cowboy hat and grab you and put it on your head and dance with you. I can't believe he's gone. The one thing I've learned in this, as people come out of the woodwork, is how amazingly lucky i've been to have known dave and to know everyone I know. I'm just finding out how much i've misunderstood some people and what a goldmine i've really hit. I've drank enough in the past two weeks to sink a boat. But what I really wanna do now, is make Dave proud.